EnterCleanthaandFloriana.
Flo.Thy pride is such a flatterer of thy beauty,That no man sighs by accident, but thouDost pity as enamour'd.Cle.Floriana!Not so kind-natur'd, surely. I have putThe sighs of courtiers in a scale, and findSome threescore thousand may weigh down a feather;I have tried their tears which, though of briny taste,Can only season the hearts of fools, not women.Their vows are like their duels, ever groundedUpon the idlest quarrel.Flo.This experiencePerhaps instructs you to; but yet your pride,I fear, is over-easy to believe.'Tis merely to fly idleness that my lordHath troubled you with courtship: if the queenWould make a statesman, she might cure a lover.Want of employment made him dream on beauty,And yours came first t' his fancy.Cle.I beginTo think his making love but vanity,And a mistake in wit.Flo.And you beginPerhaps to fear it?Cle.True, perhaps I do;For though we care not for the lover, yetWe love the passion: though we scorn the offering,We grieve to see it thrown away, and envy,If consecrated to another. WomanHath no revenge 'gainst th' injury of custom,Which gives man superiority, but thusTo fool it to subjection.Flo.Yet, Cleantha,I could have wish'd your charity had spar'dThis triumph o'er my lord.Cle.You see I takeThe next way to redeem him. This the hour,And this the place. Here he resolves to raiseA trophy in my ruin: and behold—
Flo.Thy pride is such a flatterer of thy beauty,That no man sighs by accident, but thouDost pity as enamour'd.
Cle.Floriana!Not so kind-natur'd, surely. I have putThe sighs of courtiers in a scale, and findSome threescore thousand may weigh down a feather;I have tried their tears which, though of briny taste,Can only season the hearts of fools, not women.Their vows are like their duels, ever groundedUpon the idlest quarrel.
Flo.This experiencePerhaps instructs you to; but yet your pride,I fear, is over-easy to believe.'Tis merely to fly idleness that my lordHath troubled you with courtship: if the queenWould make a statesman, she might cure a lover.Want of employment made him dream on beauty,And yours came first t' his fancy.
Cle.I beginTo think his making love but vanity,And a mistake in wit.
Flo.And you beginPerhaps to fear it?
Cle.True, perhaps I do;For though we care not for the lover, yetWe love the passion: though we scorn the offering,We grieve to see it thrown away, and envy,If consecrated to another. WomanHath no revenge 'gainst th' injury of custom,Which gives man superiority, but thusTo fool it to subjection.
Flo.Yet, Cleantha,I could have wish'd your charity had spar'dThis triumph o'er my lord.
Cle.You see I takeThe next way to redeem him. This the hour,And this the place. Here he resolves to raiseA trophy in my ruin: and behold—
EnterSanmartino, winding up his watch.
The just man of his promise! Not a minuteHe fails when sin's the payment.Flo.I'll endangerHis virtue to a blush, and happilyConvert an infidel.Cle.This is my province,Nor shall you envy me the honour ofA work so meritorious. Let him walkAwhile, and sin with his own fancy; thenI'll undertake him, and if there be need,Be you prepared to assist me.Flo.Thou dost buildSuch forts on the opinion of thy wit!
The just man of his promise! Not a minuteHe fails when sin's the payment.
Flo.I'll endangerHis virtue to a blush, and happilyConvert an infidel.
Cle.This is my province,Nor shall you envy me the honour ofA work so meritorious. Let him walkAwhile, and sin with his own fancy; thenI'll undertake him, and if there be need,Be you prepared to assist me.
Flo.Thou dost buildSuch forts on the opinion of thy wit!
[ExeuntFlorianaandCleantha.
San.'Tis a full hour, and half a minute over,And yet she not appears! How we severeStrict creditors in love stand on the minute,But yet the payment never comes unwelcome;Until the gold through age grow foul and rusty,We stand not on a grain or two too light.
San.'Tis a full hour, and half a minute over,And yet she not appears! How we severeStrict creditors in love stand on the minute,But yet the payment never comes unwelcome;Until the gold through age grow foul and rusty,We stand not on a grain or two too light.
EnterBrowfildora.
Now your discovery?Brow.My lord, I haveMade search in every alley, every arbour,Not left a bush wherein my littlenessCould creep without due scrutiny; and yetNo whispering of taffaty: no dazzlingOf your bright mistress forc'd me to a wink.I saw no mortal beauty.San.Sure, she'll notBe so unworthy to delude me now!Brow.But I had a more prosperous fate in love.My lord, I met my mistress.San.You a mistress!Brow.A mistress, to whose beauty I have paidMy vows, most fervent vows, e'er since I wasOf stature fit to be an amorist.San.One of the maids-of-honour to Queen Mab?Brow.Your lordship guesses near; for she is oneO' th' chamberers to her Fairy Majesty:A lady of most subtle wit, who, whileShe puts a handkerchief or gorget on,Her little highness holds intelligence.She raiseth factions, and unites the angry:She's much upon design.San.Where found you her?Brow.Walking alone, under the shadow ofA tulip, and inveighing 'gainst court-arts,'Cause one of Oberon's grooms had got from herThe monopoly of transporting gnats—A project she long aim'd at.San.No more fooling:I am grown angry with my patience.Boy, sing those verses were presented meThis morning.Brow.I will creep behind a bush,And then for voice vie with the nightingale:If seen, I am so bashful.San.Take your way.
Now your discovery?
Brow.My lord, I haveMade search in every alley, every arbour,Not left a bush wherein my littlenessCould creep without due scrutiny; and yetNo whispering of taffaty: no dazzlingOf your bright mistress forc'd me to a wink.I saw no mortal beauty.
San.Sure, she'll notBe so unworthy to delude me now!
Brow.But I had a more prosperous fate in love.My lord, I met my mistress.
San.You a mistress!
Brow.A mistress, to whose beauty I have paidMy vows, most fervent vows, e'er since I wasOf stature fit to be an amorist.
San.One of the maids-of-honour to Queen Mab?
Brow.Your lordship guesses near; for she is oneO' th' chamberers to her Fairy Majesty:A lady of most subtle wit, who, whileShe puts a handkerchief or gorget on,Her little highness holds intelligence.She raiseth factions, and unites the angry:She's much upon design.
San.Where found you her?
Brow.Walking alone, under the shadow ofA tulip, and inveighing 'gainst court-arts,'Cause one of Oberon's grooms had got from herThe monopoly of transporting gnats—A project she long aim'd at.
San.No more fooling:I am grown angry with my patience.Boy, sing those verses were presented meThis morning.
Brow.I will creep behind a bush,And then for voice vie with the nightingale:If seen, I am so bashful.
San.Take your way.
Song(without).
Fine young folly, though you wereThat fair beauty I did swear,Yet you ne'er could reach my heart;For we courtiers learn at schoolOnly with your sex to fool;Y'are not worth the serious part.When I sigh and kiss your hand,Cross my arms, and wond'ring stand,Holding parley with your eye:Then dilate on my desires,Swear the sun ne'er shot such fires;All is but a handsome lie.When I eye your curl or lace,Gentle soul, you think your faceStraight some murder doth commit;And your virtue doth beginTo grow scrupulous of my sin,When I talk to show my wit.Therefore, madam, wear no cloud,Nor to check my love grow proud;In sooth I much do doubt,'Tis the powder in your hair,Not your breath, perfumes the air,And your clothes that set you out.Yet though truth has this confess'd,And I vow I love in jest:When I next begin to court,And protest an amorous flame,You will swear I in earnest am:Bedlam! this is pretty sport.
Fine young folly, though you wereThat fair beauty I did swear,Yet you ne'er could reach my heart;For we courtiers learn at schoolOnly with your sex to fool;Y'are not worth the serious part.When I sigh and kiss your hand,Cross my arms, and wond'ring stand,Holding parley with your eye:Then dilate on my desires,Swear the sun ne'er shot such fires;All is but a handsome lie.When I eye your curl or lace,Gentle soul, you think your faceStraight some murder doth commit;And your virtue doth beginTo grow scrupulous of my sin,When I talk to show my wit.Therefore, madam, wear no cloud,Nor to check my love grow proud;In sooth I much do doubt,'Tis the powder in your hair,Not your breath, perfumes the air,And your clothes that set you out.Yet though truth has this confess'd,And I vow I love in jest:When I next begin to court,And protest an amorous flame,You will swear I in earnest am:Bedlam! this is pretty sport.
Fine young folly, though you wereThat fair beauty I did swear,Yet you ne'er could reach my heart;For we courtiers learn at schoolOnly with your sex to fool;Y'are not worth the serious part.
When I sigh and kiss your hand,Cross my arms, and wond'ring stand,Holding parley with your eye:Then dilate on my desires,Swear the sun ne'er shot such fires;All is but a handsome lie.
When I eye your curl or lace,Gentle soul, you think your faceStraight some murder doth commit;And your virtue doth beginTo grow scrupulous of my sin,When I talk to show my wit.
Therefore, madam, wear no cloud,Nor to check my love grow proud;In sooth I much do doubt,'Tis the powder in your hair,Not your breath, perfumes the air,And your clothes that set you out.
Yet though truth has this confess'd,And I vow I love in jest:When I next begin to court,And protest an amorous flame,You will swear I in earnest am:Bedlam! this is pretty sport.
As the song ends, enterCleanthaveiled.
She breaks forth like the morning in a cloud.'Tis for the safety of my eyes you veilThe glory of your beauties, which else mightDazzle, not catch the sight; but I discernA fair Cleantha through this gloominess.Appear and speak, bright madam. Why such silence?O, famish not my ear, which greedilyLongs to devour the music of your language:Is it to teach me that delight must beEntomb'd in secrecy, or else to showHow mad a spendthrift I'm to talk awayThe treasure of this hour? Come, fair, unveil.Cle.O, give me leave yet to retain my blushes.San.Deceit of timorous modesty! TraitorsTo love your blushes are: your fears are enviousOf your delights. Let's vanish hence, and ne'erTo th' vulgar eye appear, till we,Grown old in pleasure, be transform'd t' a vineOr ivy, so for ever to entwine.Cle.Then I unveil.San.O, fly into my arms,As a rich odour to the ravish'd sense!Perfume me with thy kisses.Cle.Stay, my lord!Actions of moment (as I take this is)Must be maturely thought on. I have call'dMy reason to account.San.Your reason, madam!Cle.Yes, my good lord: that only doth distinguishA woman from brute beasts; or, what's more sensual,A vain loose man. What sin scandals my carriage,To give encouragement to this presumption?What privileg'd this attempt?San.That tempting beauty.Cle.It is a traitor then to my pure thoughts;And, to preserve your eye, would it were wrinkled:I could much easier suffer the reproachOf age than your bold courtship. If a ladyBe young and sportive, use curiosity,And perhaps art, to help where nature seem'dImperfect in her work, will you, from theFalse argument of your own loose blood, concludeHer guilty? Or, if she select a friend,Whose innocence gives warrant to her faith,Will you infer their whispers have no aimBut that of brothels? 'Cause you find yourselfNought but loose flesh, will you turn heretic,And thence deny the soul?San.This language, madam,Sounds nothing to the purpose of our meeting.Cle.More to the benefit. But in your patent,'Mong all the privileges of a Conde,Where find you lust inserted? Without which,Till age hath made you wise or impotent,You think your honour is defective. 'CauseYour clothes are handsome and mine too, must weDeform our minds? Is it sufficient motiveTo sin, if opportunity and youthPersuade us? Such as you are those foul plaguesInfect the air which breathes our fame, and makeThe cautious sirs o' th' country shun us.San.Madam!Cle.When we admit you to our bed-chamber,Powder, or haply bathe before you; whatOf honour's here more than a groom may boastOur maids are tir'd with? Yet this with a smileIs whisper'd to your friend, and you inferHow easy a more near approach will be.My lord, learn virtue, and your wit may thenNot serve you to so fond a purpose. IfThat courage you are famed for be no slander,Go to the wars. 'Twill be a far less maimTo lose an eye there than your honour here.If peace enamour you, and the court, live honest:And hope the heir, who shall succeed you, mayBe yours. Revenge destroys more chastityThan all the temptings of such lords as you.San.You shall not talk me, madam, from that pleasureThis hour doth promise me.Cle.You'll not commitA rape, my lord?San.That is a question asYet unresolv'd; for force is my last refuge.Cle.Think on the danger; for the sin, I see,Little distracts your conscience.San.I proposeFelicity, which none can merit whoRefuse so poor a venture. Here I vow,No prayer or art shall free you. If you willHazard a life devoted to your service,I'll die your martyr.Cle.Come, my lord, I'll free youFrom all such hazard.San.There spoke harmony!Cle.I'll not be cruel. You shall have kisses, suchAs will melt your soul into your lips: and whatIs sweetest, no repentance shall be th' issue
She breaks forth like the morning in a cloud.'Tis for the safety of my eyes you veilThe glory of your beauties, which else mightDazzle, not catch the sight; but I discernA fair Cleantha through this gloominess.Appear and speak, bright madam. Why such silence?O, famish not my ear, which greedilyLongs to devour the music of your language:Is it to teach me that delight must beEntomb'd in secrecy, or else to showHow mad a spendthrift I'm to talk awayThe treasure of this hour? Come, fair, unveil.
Cle.O, give me leave yet to retain my blushes.
San.Deceit of timorous modesty! TraitorsTo love your blushes are: your fears are enviousOf your delights. Let's vanish hence, and ne'erTo th' vulgar eye appear, till we,Grown old in pleasure, be transform'd t' a vineOr ivy, so for ever to entwine.
Cle.Then I unveil.
San.O, fly into my arms,As a rich odour to the ravish'd sense!Perfume me with thy kisses.
Cle.Stay, my lord!Actions of moment (as I take this is)Must be maturely thought on. I have call'dMy reason to account.
San.Your reason, madam!
Cle.Yes, my good lord: that only doth distinguishA woman from brute beasts; or, what's more sensual,A vain loose man. What sin scandals my carriage,To give encouragement to this presumption?What privileg'd this attempt?
San.That tempting beauty.
Cle.It is a traitor then to my pure thoughts;And, to preserve your eye, would it were wrinkled:I could much easier suffer the reproachOf age than your bold courtship. If a ladyBe young and sportive, use curiosity,And perhaps art, to help where nature seem'dImperfect in her work, will you, from theFalse argument of your own loose blood, concludeHer guilty? Or, if she select a friend,Whose innocence gives warrant to her faith,Will you infer their whispers have no aimBut that of brothels? 'Cause you find yourselfNought but loose flesh, will you turn heretic,And thence deny the soul?
San.This language, madam,Sounds nothing to the purpose of our meeting.
Cle.More to the benefit. But in your patent,'Mong all the privileges of a Conde,Where find you lust inserted? Without which,Till age hath made you wise or impotent,You think your honour is defective. 'CauseYour clothes are handsome and mine too, must weDeform our minds? Is it sufficient motiveTo sin, if opportunity and youthPersuade us? Such as you are those foul plaguesInfect the air which breathes our fame, and makeThe cautious sirs o' th' country shun us.
San.Madam!
Cle.When we admit you to our bed-chamber,Powder, or haply bathe before you; whatOf honour's here more than a groom may boastOur maids are tir'd with? Yet this with a smileIs whisper'd to your friend, and you inferHow easy a more near approach will be.My lord, learn virtue, and your wit may thenNot serve you to so fond a purpose. IfThat courage you are famed for be no slander,Go to the wars. 'Twill be a far less maimTo lose an eye there than your honour here.If peace enamour you, and the court, live honest:And hope the heir, who shall succeed you, mayBe yours. Revenge destroys more chastityThan all the temptings of such lords as you.
San.You shall not talk me, madam, from that pleasureThis hour doth promise me.
Cle.You'll not commitA rape, my lord?
San.That is a question asYet unresolv'd; for force is my last refuge.
Cle.Think on the danger; for the sin, I see,Little distracts your conscience.
San.I proposeFelicity, which none can merit whoRefuse so poor a venture. Here I vow,No prayer or art shall free you. If you willHazard a life devoted to your service,I'll die your martyr.
Cle.Come, my lord, I'll free youFrom all such hazard.
San.There spoke harmony!
Cle.I'll not be cruel. You shall have kisses, suchAs will melt your soul into your lips: and whatIs sweetest, no repentance shall be th' issue
EnterFlorianaandOniate.
Of your delight. Look here, my lord! She's yours.San.No halter now nor tree convenient? O!A steeple would be precious for my purpose!But Oniate's there. I'll fight with him,Be kill'd and be redeem'd. Sir, you receiv'dA challenge from me! but return'd no answer.Oni.My lord, I had other business; you'll excuse me.San.What satisfaction do men give when challeng'd?Oni.According to their spirit: if they beRegardless of their fame, then they submit;If not, they fight.San.What, sir, will you then do?Oni.Let me consider. Neither.San.Come, you shall fight.Oni.My lord, I will not.San.Then you shall subscribeYourself a coward.Oni.Not for the whole world!Such an apparent lie would be a sinToo heavy to my conscience. I subscribeMyself a coward! If I should, no soldierWould think but that my hand were counterfeited.San.Then you must fight.Oni.My lord, on no condition. Hope not for it.San.Then you shall swear never to speak my nameBut with respect.Oni.Hereafter, if you canDeserve it. For the present I must craveYour pardon with much mirth to laugh at you.San.Sir, I shall meet you.Oni.It shall contradictAll my endeavours then.San.I go, sir. But——[ExitSanmartino.Cle.For mercy sake, go with thy lord. RepentanceMay turn to desperation.Flo.I'll preserve him.[Exit.Cle.Have you no business, sir, imports you more,Than t' hold discourse with me? Troth, I shall pityYou want employment.Oni.Madam, what can beMore serious?Cle.Nothing more, if your designBe to convert me: for I know you holdAll ladies in a schism who are young and proud.Oni.Your pardon, madam. I believe you[285]cunningCourt-ladies choose some petty venial errorsTo set perfection off; for should you notUsurp a handsome pride, your fame would lie,Like unwall'd cities, open to the preyOf each invading youth. Did you not showA scorn, you would deserve it.Cle.Sir, take heed.Hope not to win my favour by extollingWhat in our better thoughts we ourselves condemn.I am so wearied out with vows and oaths,With impious praises and most tedious flattery,That nothing but plain-speaking truth can gainOn my affection.Oni.Madam, your affection?Cle.Pray, sir, do not comment upon the word;It doth portend no danger to you.Oni.And if it did, where's the beatitude?For though I grant your virtues great as beautyCan entertain, and foolish I resolv'dTo captivate my stock of life t' a woman,Yet would I not adventure on you, ifYou did not vow to perform articles.Cle.Suppose the business come to articles?Oni.I' th' first then, you should covenant love; not squintingOn every finer youth or greater lord,But looking straight on me.Cle.To the second, sir.Oni.No dotage on the court, so far that myEstate must rue it; and no vanityBe started up, but my fond lady mustBe melancholy, and take physic tillShe get into it.Cle.Why, you envy thenUs our own trouble; keep us from the expense,And leave us to our discontent for penance.Oni.No! I would have the mind serene: withoutAll passion, though a masque should be presented,And you i' th' country. I must have you wise,To know your beauty mortal, which you mustPreserve to warm my eye, not aid by arts,To keep the courtier's wit in exercise.From his so practis'd flattery your earMust turn with a brave scorn; and when his eyeDoth offer parley, seem so ignorantAs not to understand the language.Cle.Sir,You haply will debar us our she-friends too?Oni.As secret enemies, who'll first betray you.Cle.You'll not allow us, wearied of our husbands,To send them on discovery of new worlds?Or if we take a toy ourselves to travel,Perhaps to Barbary or Tartary,Or the remotest parts?Oni.To Bedlam sooner.Cle.Or, if our sex should warrant it by custom,To play at tennis, or run at the ring,Or any other martial exercise:I fear me, scrupulous sir, you will condemn itAs dangerous to my honour?Oni.Sure, I should.Cle.I then perceive small hope of our agreement.Oni.But I a confidence; for I discernHow much you loathe these follies you pretend.Cle.Good sir, no more of this so kind mistake;You'll find some other lady more deserves it,And I aspire not to the honour.Oni. I'll try yet farther.[ExeuntOniateandCleantha.
Of your delight. Look here, my lord! She's yours.
San.No halter now nor tree convenient? O!A steeple would be precious for my purpose!But Oniate's there. I'll fight with him,Be kill'd and be redeem'd. Sir, you receiv'dA challenge from me! but return'd no answer.
Oni.My lord, I had other business; you'll excuse me.
San.What satisfaction do men give when challeng'd?
Oni.According to their spirit: if they beRegardless of their fame, then they submit;If not, they fight.
San.What, sir, will you then do?
Oni.Let me consider. Neither.
San.Come, you shall fight.
Oni.My lord, I will not.
San.Then you shall subscribeYourself a coward.
Oni.Not for the whole world!Such an apparent lie would be a sinToo heavy to my conscience. I subscribeMyself a coward! If I should, no soldierWould think but that my hand were counterfeited.
San.Then you must fight.
Oni.My lord, on no condition. Hope not for it.
San.Then you shall swear never to speak my nameBut with respect.
Oni.Hereafter, if you canDeserve it. For the present I must craveYour pardon with much mirth to laugh at you.
San.Sir, I shall meet you.
Oni.It shall contradictAll my endeavours then.
San.I go, sir. But——[ExitSanmartino.
Cle.For mercy sake, go with thy lord. RepentanceMay turn to desperation.
Flo.I'll preserve him.[Exit.
Cle.Have you no business, sir, imports you more,Than t' hold discourse with me? Troth, I shall pityYou want employment.
Oni.Madam, what can beMore serious?
Cle.Nothing more, if your designBe to convert me: for I know you holdAll ladies in a schism who are young and proud.
Oni.Your pardon, madam. I believe you[285]cunningCourt-ladies choose some petty venial errorsTo set perfection off; for should you notUsurp a handsome pride, your fame would lie,Like unwall'd cities, open to the preyOf each invading youth. Did you not showA scorn, you would deserve it.
Cle.Sir, take heed.Hope not to win my favour by extollingWhat in our better thoughts we ourselves condemn.I am so wearied out with vows and oaths,With impious praises and most tedious flattery,That nothing but plain-speaking truth can gainOn my affection.
Oni.Madam, your affection?
Cle.Pray, sir, do not comment upon the word;It doth portend no danger to you.
Oni.And if it did, where's the beatitude?For though I grant your virtues great as beautyCan entertain, and foolish I resolv'dTo captivate my stock of life t' a woman,Yet would I not adventure on you, ifYou did not vow to perform articles.
Cle.Suppose the business come to articles?
Oni.I' th' first then, you should covenant love; not squintingOn every finer youth or greater lord,But looking straight on me.
Cle.To the second, sir.
Oni.No dotage on the court, so far that myEstate must rue it; and no vanityBe started up, but my fond lady mustBe melancholy, and take physic tillShe get into it.
Cle.Why, you envy thenUs our own trouble; keep us from the expense,And leave us to our discontent for penance.
Oni.No! I would have the mind serene: withoutAll passion, though a masque should be presented,And you i' th' country. I must have you wise,To know your beauty mortal, which you mustPreserve to warm my eye, not aid by arts,To keep the courtier's wit in exercise.From his so practis'd flattery your earMust turn with a brave scorn; and when his eyeDoth offer parley, seem so ignorantAs not to understand the language.
Cle.Sir,You haply will debar us our she-friends too?
Oni.As secret enemies, who'll first betray you.
Cle.You'll not allow us, wearied of our husbands,To send them on discovery of new worlds?Or if we take a toy ourselves to travel,Perhaps to Barbary or Tartary,Or the remotest parts?
Oni.To Bedlam sooner.
Cle.Or, if our sex should warrant it by custom,To play at tennis, or run at the ring,Or any other martial exercise:I fear me, scrupulous sir, you will condemn itAs dangerous to my honour?
Oni.Sure, I should.
Cle.I then perceive small hope of our agreement.
Oni.But I a confidence; for I discernHow much you loathe these follies you pretend.
Cle.Good sir, no more of this so kind mistake;You'll find some other lady more deserves it,And I aspire not to the honour.
Oni. I'll try yet farther.[ExeuntOniateandCleantha.
EnterLermaandVelasco.
Ler.My lord, you offer nobly.Vel.'Tis a stepBeneath Florentio's greatness, whether youHis birth consider or his place. Sir, the queenBy nature's seated and her high deserts,Where only mighty souls (such as the general's)May offer to aspire.Ler.My lord, your lapseTo this proud language is so injurious, thatI must be forc'd to purge the humour. ThatThe Lord Florentio offers by a duelTo show no man can have fairer pretenceTo serve the queen, must be allowed; but thatYou dare cast disregard upon this lord,Although a stranger, urgeth me t' intreatYou'd draw your sword.Vel.It hath seen light, and madeWay through an army, when fond victorySmil'd on our enemies: it hath done wonders,When the thick troops of Moors invaded us.It fears no opposition.Ler.Show th' effect of't.Vel.Not in a cause so trivial. Each small breathDisturbs the quiet of poor shallow waters;But winds must arm themselves ere the large seaIs seen to tremble. Pray your pardon, sir:I must not throw away my courage onA cause so trivial.Ler.As you please, my lord.But, to omit all circumstance, you bringA challenge to my Lord Ascanio:The reason of the Lord Florentio's anger,A rivalship in love.Vel.You speak it right.Ler.I'll bring you back his resolutionBefore you have attended many minutes.Vel.Sir, 'twill be decent, for my nature knowsNot how to wait: and if no delaysBe used, 'twill show a fierce valour in him,And happily prevent discovery.For you may easily conjecture, thatA general's absence soon will wake the eyeOf the suspicious soldier.Ler.Is my lordIn readiness?Vel.He walks not far from hence.Ler.You shall have use then but of a short patience.[Exit.Vel.It will be grateful to us, sir. My lord!
Ler.My lord, you offer nobly.
Vel.'Tis a stepBeneath Florentio's greatness, whether youHis birth consider or his place. Sir, the queenBy nature's seated and her high deserts,Where only mighty souls (such as the general's)May offer to aspire.
Ler.My lord, your lapseTo this proud language is so injurious, thatI must be forc'd to purge the humour. ThatThe Lord Florentio offers by a duelTo show no man can have fairer pretenceTo serve the queen, must be allowed; but thatYou dare cast disregard upon this lord,Although a stranger, urgeth me t' intreatYou'd draw your sword.
Vel.It hath seen light, and madeWay through an army, when fond victorySmil'd on our enemies: it hath done wonders,When the thick troops of Moors invaded us.It fears no opposition.
Ler.Show th' effect of't.
Vel.Not in a cause so trivial. Each small breathDisturbs the quiet of poor shallow waters;But winds must arm themselves ere the large seaIs seen to tremble. Pray your pardon, sir:I must not throw away my courage onA cause so trivial.
Ler.As you please, my lord.But, to omit all circumstance, you bringA challenge to my Lord Ascanio:The reason of the Lord Florentio's anger,A rivalship in love.
Vel.You speak it right.
Ler.I'll bring you back his resolutionBefore you have attended many minutes.
Vel.Sir, 'twill be decent, for my nature knowsNot how to wait: and if no delaysBe used, 'twill show a fierce valour in him,And happily prevent discovery.For you may easily conjecture, thatA general's absence soon will wake the eyeOf the suspicious soldier.
Ler.Is my lordIn readiness?
Vel.He walks not far from hence.
Ler.You shall have use then but of a short patience.[Exit.
Vel.It will be grateful to us, sir. My lord!
EnterFlorentio.
Flo.And will Ascanio meet?Vel.Immediately.Flo.I had no other way; yet this is rough,And justice whispers 'tis unsafe to tread it.If to love her be sinful, what am I?How dare I call his passion to the bar,And nourish it myself? Why may not he,Who hath as bold a fortune, entertainAs bold a love: and in the fate of warHaving outgone my service, why not thenPresent it to the selfsame altar? ButWe cannot harbour both in the same port;Or he or I am shipwreck'd: for the stormIs rais'd, and, to appease it, death must beThe sacrifice.
Flo.And will Ascanio meet?
Vel.Immediately.
Flo.I had no other way; yet this is rough,And justice whispers 'tis unsafe to tread it.If to love her be sinful, what am I?How dare I call his passion to the bar,And nourish it myself? Why may not he,Who hath as bold a fortune, entertainAs bold a love: and in the fate of warHaving outgone my service, why not thenPresent it to the selfsame altar? ButWe cannot harbour both in the same port;Or he or I am shipwreck'd: for the stormIs rais'd, and, to appease it, death must beThe sacrifice.
EnterLerma.
Vel.My lord, here is the second.This stranger dares not meet with your great spirit.Flo.Suspect him not, my lord: he hath a courageAbove the sense of fear. Well, sir, your answer?Ler.My Lord Ascanio could have wish'd his lifeMight have been destin'd to a happier purpose,And charged me tell your lordship that he hadMuch rather have been lost with common dustIn the cheap churchyard, than endanger'd fameIn this great duel.Flo.Sir, explain his reasons.Ler.He calls to his sad thoughts the mischiefs, whichThis kingdom needs must fall into, when youShall perish by his sword; for certainlyYou cannot 'scape it, thus provoking death.Then to what ruin may the queen, whose safetyYou both have labour'd, be engag'd? He couldWith patience almost suffer on his nameThe infamy of coward, rather thanHazard the quiet of her estate. But you——Flo.Let me consider: 'tis an idle rageThat heats me to this quarrel. Let her fateRemain unshaken, though she choose my foeInto her love and bosom. If she liveAbove the fear of ruin, I am mighty—Mighty enough, though by my griefs grown feeble,And weaken'd too: diseases fright the healthy.I will refer my cause and life to her,And ne'er dispute it by the sword.Vel.My lord!Flo.Velasco, I am safe enough againstThe taint of coward. Spain bears witness thatI dare, as far as honour dares give warrant;But in this cause——Vel.My lord, you'll lose the gloryOf all your former actions, and becomeThe mirth of courtiers—empty things, who brawl,Not fight, if you return after a challengeWithout performance.Flo.'Tis a serious truth.Vel.Moreover, this young gentleman hath hopeTo talk you from your resolution.The Lord Ascanio will too much exult,If this way too he can o'ercome you.Flo.It must not be, sir: tell my lord I waitHis leisure.Ler.And your lordship shall not haveReason to think it long. Prepare yourself.His only prayer is now that, when he comes,There may be no discourse to take up time;He hath desire the business may be all:What he can say hath been by me deliver'd.[Exit.Flo.We will obey him. Tyrant Love! why isThy cruelty so wanton, to delightIn murder? Like that impious Roman prince,Thou joy'st to smother whom thou lov'st in roses,And stifle them with the choicest perfumes. ButThis is no place for reason; she may holdDispute in sober schools, where study raisesThe soul to knowledge: here's the theatreFor the brute part of man to fight his last.I must redeem the laurel fortune crown'dHis temples with, or perish in th' attempt:My fate decrees it.
Vel.My lord, here is the second.This stranger dares not meet with your great spirit.
Flo.Suspect him not, my lord: he hath a courageAbove the sense of fear. Well, sir, your answer?
Ler.My Lord Ascanio could have wish'd his lifeMight have been destin'd to a happier purpose,And charged me tell your lordship that he hadMuch rather have been lost with common dustIn the cheap churchyard, than endanger'd fameIn this great duel.
Flo.Sir, explain his reasons.
Ler.He calls to his sad thoughts the mischiefs, whichThis kingdom needs must fall into, when youShall perish by his sword; for certainlyYou cannot 'scape it, thus provoking death.Then to what ruin may the queen, whose safetyYou both have labour'd, be engag'd? He couldWith patience almost suffer on his nameThe infamy of coward, rather thanHazard the quiet of her estate. But you——
Flo.Let me consider: 'tis an idle rageThat heats me to this quarrel. Let her fateRemain unshaken, though she choose my foeInto her love and bosom. If she liveAbove the fear of ruin, I am mighty—Mighty enough, though by my griefs grown feeble,And weaken'd too: diseases fright the healthy.I will refer my cause and life to her,And ne'er dispute it by the sword.
Vel.My lord!
Flo.Velasco, I am safe enough againstThe taint of coward. Spain bears witness thatI dare, as far as honour dares give warrant;But in this cause——
Vel.My lord, you'll lose the gloryOf all your former actions, and becomeThe mirth of courtiers—empty things, who brawl,Not fight, if you return after a challengeWithout performance.
Flo.'Tis a serious truth.
Vel.Moreover, this young gentleman hath hopeTo talk you from your resolution.The Lord Ascanio will too much exult,If this way too he can o'ercome you.
Flo.It must not be, sir: tell my lord I waitHis leisure.
Ler.And your lordship shall not haveReason to think it long. Prepare yourself.His only prayer is now that, when he comes,There may be no discourse to take up time;He hath desire the business may be all:What he can say hath been by me deliver'd.[Exit.
Flo.We will obey him. Tyrant Love! why isThy cruelty so wanton, to delightIn murder? Like that impious Roman prince,Thou joy'st to smother whom thou lov'st in roses,And stifle them with the choicest perfumes. ButThis is no place for reason; she may holdDispute in sober schools, where study raisesThe soul to knowledge: here's the theatreFor the brute part of man to fight his last.I must redeem the laurel fortune crown'dHis temples with, or perish in th' attempt:My fate decrees it.
EnterAscanioandLerma.
Ler.Here's my Lord Ascanio.Flo.Why doth he turn his face away, as ifHe durst not look on danger? Do his fearsNow triumph o'er his courage?Ler.Put it to the trial.[They fight.Flo.He's more than mortal, sure. He strikes like lightning,Himself not passive. But I'll try again,And disenchant the sorcerer. Ay, thereI reach'd him home: you bleed; open your doublet;The wound, perhaps, is dangerous.Asc.But a scratch.Flo.Sure I have heard that voice, and seen that face!Velasco, 'tis the king.Asc.My lord, what mean you?Flo.Some planet strike me dead, and fix this armA monument to tell posterityThe treason of my error! Mighty sir,Show mercy to your creature, that my death(Which hastily steals on me) may not beToo foul for after-story.Asc.Rise, Florentio,This act cannot endure the name of treason.Flo.Some surgeons, quick, to search the wound! O sir,How do you feel yourself? Speak life, or IShall sink down to my centre.Asc.Not a manStir hence: thy sword was loyal as thy thoughts,And scarce hath pierc'd the skin. O my Florentio!Flo.My lord and king! But why did you engageYour sacred person into danger? 'Twas not well:How many thousand lives depend on yours!Asc.Envy o' th' greatness I possess'd withoutThe merit, and desire to know those perilsWe wantonly our subjects cast uponOn every weak exception, wrought my youthInto this action. Nor can I repentTh' experience of this war.Flo.But, O great sir,Why did your majesty suffer this duel?'Twas cruel and unkind. How easilyThis hand might have committed sacrilege!The very thought whereof, like some pale vision,Congeals my blood.Asc.Search not that wound too deep.Florentio! I shall blush—blush like some ladySurpris'd in sin—if you too far examine.Flo.Conceal it not, great sir, though in the speakingPoison steal through my ear. Be confident:Unveil your thoughts.Asc.You needs must hate me, then,And will have justice to throw off that dutyYou owe me as a subject. Let it beUnspoken still, though smothering it be death.Flo.Good Heaven defend! What is an army of usExposed to certain slaughter, if comparedTo th' shortest moment that should serve your quiet?And shall I live, and see my sovereign wearA sorrow on his brow?Asc.Florentio! thouArt glorious in thy virtue. So was I,Till looking on the queen I grew o' th' suddenDarker than midnight.Flo.O my cruel fate![Aside.Asc.I grew a thief, a most ungrateful thiefIn my designs, and labour'd to have stoleThe jewel of thy life from thee; a jewelMyself so freely had bestowed uponThe merits of thy youth.Flo.My soul foresaw this.Asc.How justly had I perish'd by thy sword!How happy for my safety! Then had IBeen lost in my disguise, or died, my crimeUnknown unto the world. Now, if I live,I must wade through a sea of injuries,T' attain an unsafe haven.
Ler.Here's my Lord Ascanio.
Flo.Why doth he turn his face away, as ifHe durst not look on danger? Do his fearsNow triumph o'er his courage?
Ler.Put it to the trial.[They fight.
Flo.He's more than mortal, sure. He strikes like lightning,Himself not passive. But I'll try again,And disenchant the sorcerer. Ay, thereI reach'd him home: you bleed; open your doublet;The wound, perhaps, is dangerous.
Asc.But a scratch.
Flo.Sure I have heard that voice, and seen that face!Velasco, 'tis the king.
Asc.My lord, what mean you?
Flo.Some planet strike me dead, and fix this armA monument to tell posterityThe treason of my error! Mighty sir,Show mercy to your creature, that my death(Which hastily steals on me) may not beToo foul for after-story.
Asc.Rise, Florentio,This act cannot endure the name of treason.
Flo.Some surgeons, quick, to search the wound! O sir,How do you feel yourself? Speak life, or IShall sink down to my centre.
Asc.Not a manStir hence: thy sword was loyal as thy thoughts,And scarce hath pierc'd the skin. O my Florentio!
Flo.My lord and king! But why did you engageYour sacred person into danger? 'Twas not well:How many thousand lives depend on yours!
Asc.Envy o' th' greatness I possess'd withoutThe merit, and desire to know those perilsWe wantonly our subjects cast uponOn every weak exception, wrought my youthInto this action. Nor can I repentTh' experience of this war.
Flo.But, O great sir,Why did your majesty suffer this duel?'Twas cruel and unkind. How easilyThis hand might have committed sacrilege!The very thought whereof, like some pale vision,Congeals my blood.
Asc.Search not that wound too deep.Florentio! I shall blush—blush like some ladySurpris'd in sin—if you too far examine.
Flo.Conceal it not, great sir, though in the speakingPoison steal through my ear. Be confident:Unveil your thoughts.
Asc.You needs must hate me, then,And will have justice to throw off that dutyYou owe me as a subject. Let it beUnspoken still, though smothering it be death.
Flo.Good Heaven defend! What is an army of usExposed to certain slaughter, if comparedTo th' shortest moment that should serve your quiet?And shall I live, and see my sovereign wearA sorrow on his brow?
Asc.Florentio! thouArt glorious in thy virtue. So was I,Till looking on the queen I grew o' th' suddenDarker than midnight.
Flo.O my cruel fate![Aside.
Asc.I grew a thief, a most ungrateful thiefIn my designs, and labour'd to have stoleThe jewel of thy life from thee; a jewelMyself so freely had bestowed uponThe merits of thy youth.
Flo.My soul foresaw this.
Asc.How justly had I perish'd by thy sword!How happy for my safety! Then had IBeen lost in my disguise, or died, my crimeUnknown unto the world. Now, if I live,I must wade through a sea of injuries,T' attain an unsafe haven.
Enter theQueen.
Flo.Cheer yourself,Dread sir. Though, as I give the legacy,I breathe my last, yet will I show a heartThankful to your great favours. Madam, hereBehold the Sovereign of Castile.Queen.You haveBeen cruel in your kindness, sir, to keepSo long your sacred person hid from us.Flo.He is your lover, madam, and deservesThe title: whether you observe his youth,So beauteous nature doats upon her work,Or weigh his greatness, powerful to defend youShould fate and all mankind conspire your ruin.And add to that, he merits you, his swordHaving restored your freedom, when poor IWas judg'd, like some old instrument of war,Unfit for service. All my interestI here resign to th' author of my fate;My love I cannot, which must still remainCompanion to my life: but I'll take heedMy wound appear not, though it inward bleed.[Exit.Asc.I wait here, madam, and attend your sentence;For 'tis my doom.Queen.I am that sad wretch,Stands trembling at the bar. I know your merit,And know a gratitude, great as e'er was owing,By an injured soul relieved: I duly weighThat double tie, which doth oblige me yours.First, when you sent your soldiers to my rescue;Then, by exposing your most sacred personTo th' dangers of a war.Asc.A trivial nothing.Queen.What honour can come equal to my state,As by so high a match? And 'gainst your personThe envious cannot find a quarrel.Asc.Madam,All this is circumstance the politicBusy their fancy with. I bring a love,An humble love, which is of value toEnnoble the parch'd labourer, and forceAn empress listen to his vows. ConsiderIn me nothing of fortune; only lookOn that to which love new-created me.If once receiv'd your servant, what's CastileIn the comparison? For princes areToo bold, if they bring wealth and victoryTo enter competition with those treasuresA lover aims at in his mistress' favour.May I not hope your smile?Queen.You must command it.Asc.Then give me leave to whisper to my hopesWhat strange felicities I shall enjoy.Queen.But, sir, consider how you gave awayTo your Florentio all that claim you mightHave to me, as so great a neighbouring prince.Asc.It was a gift my ignorance made, which IWas cosen'd in; for had my eye been honour'dWith sight of such a beauty, safer heMight have petition'd for my sceptre, andThe grant had not so soon begot repentance.Queen.But promises of princes must not beBy after-arts evaded. Who dares punishThe breach of oath in subjects, and yet slightThe faith he hath made them keep?Asc.But my FlorentioHath given me back his interest.Queen.That giftWas like a vow extorted, which religionCancels, as forc'd from conscience.Asc.But yourselfAre free, and never by an oath made his.Queen.My resolution, grounded on his service,Ties more than formal contracts.Asc.I'll not urgeYou farther, but by these, which never yetFound passage through my eyes, not he nor allMankind, contracted to one heart, can harbourA love that equals that I burn with. Madam,Think on't; and let your thoughts find out that pathWhich leads to mercy.[ExitAscanio.Queen.How I am dazzled,Plac'd on a precipice by tyrant Love!The king is noble, and his merits claimA retribution great as I can make.He loves me, and yields only to Florentio,In the priority of service. My sad soul!
Flo.Cheer yourself,Dread sir. Though, as I give the legacy,I breathe my last, yet will I show a heartThankful to your great favours. Madam, hereBehold the Sovereign of Castile.
Queen.You haveBeen cruel in your kindness, sir, to keepSo long your sacred person hid from us.
Flo.He is your lover, madam, and deservesThe title: whether you observe his youth,So beauteous nature doats upon her work,Or weigh his greatness, powerful to defend youShould fate and all mankind conspire your ruin.And add to that, he merits you, his swordHaving restored your freedom, when poor IWas judg'd, like some old instrument of war,Unfit for service. All my interestI here resign to th' author of my fate;My love I cannot, which must still remainCompanion to my life: but I'll take heedMy wound appear not, though it inward bleed.[Exit.
Asc.I wait here, madam, and attend your sentence;For 'tis my doom.
Queen.I am that sad wretch,Stands trembling at the bar. I know your merit,And know a gratitude, great as e'er was owing,By an injured soul relieved: I duly weighThat double tie, which doth oblige me yours.First, when you sent your soldiers to my rescue;Then, by exposing your most sacred personTo th' dangers of a war.
Asc.A trivial nothing.
Queen.What honour can come equal to my state,As by so high a match? And 'gainst your personThe envious cannot find a quarrel.
Asc.Madam,All this is circumstance the politicBusy their fancy with. I bring a love,An humble love, which is of value toEnnoble the parch'd labourer, and forceAn empress listen to his vows. ConsiderIn me nothing of fortune; only lookOn that to which love new-created me.If once receiv'd your servant, what's CastileIn the comparison? For princes areToo bold, if they bring wealth and victoryTo enter competition with those treasuresA lover aims at in his mistress' favour.May I not hope your smile?
Queen.You must command it.
Asc.Then give me leave to whisper to my hopesWhat strange felicities I shall enjoy.
Queen.But, sir, consider how you gave awayTo your Florentio all that claim you mightHave to me, as so great a neighbouring prince.
Asc.It was a gift my ignorance made, which IWas cosen'd in; for had my eye been honour'dWith sight of such a beauty, safer heMight have petition'd for my sceptre, andThe grant had not so soon begot repentance.
Queen.But promises of princes must not beBy after-arts evaded. Who dares punishThe breach of oath in subjects, and yet slightThe faith he hath made them keep?
Asc.But my FlorentioHath given me back his interest.
Queen.That giftWas like a vow extorted, which religionCancels, as forc'd from conscience.
Asc.But yourselfAre free, and never by an oath made his.
Queen.My resolution, grounded on his service,Ties more than formal contracts.
Asc.I'll not urgeYou farther, but by these, which never yetFound passage through my eyes, not he nor allMankind, contracted to one heart, can harbourA love that equals that I burn with. Madam,Think on't; and let your thoughts find out that pathWhich leads to mercy.[ExitAscanio.
Queen.How I am dazzled,Plac'd on a precipice by tyrant Love!The king is noble, and his merits claimA retribution great as I can make.He loves me, and yields only to Florentio,In the priority of service. My sad soul!
EnterFlorentio, looks on theQueen, sighs, and goes in again.